


Choices

by thyandra



Series: Two-years Anniversary Fanfiction Giveaway [3]
Category: Tokyo Ghoul, Tokyo Ghoul:re
Genre: Minor Violence, Relationship Study, Set after Cochlea arc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-21 10:25:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9543665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thyandra/pseuds/thyandra
Summary: The second day after their arrival at :Re, Ayato leaves.It doesn’t come as much of a surprise to Touka, but it still hurts plenty. She thought that this time it would be different. Why did she think that, again?Or;That one fic where the Kirishima siblings finally talk things out and try to come to terms with their feelings about each other, and maybe even about the unspoken ghosts from their past.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: there’s some minor violence in this, because no matter how much they’ve matured, the Kirishima siblings are still pretty impulsive from time to time. Warning for complicated feelings, too. Please don’t hate Ayato. He doesn’t mean any harm, the poor thing

* * *

 

 

 

It’s only after they crawl their way out those disgusting-smelling tunnels in the undergrounds of that damn prison that Touka lets her shoulders relax a bit. Not much, because the threat of the doves running after them is still very present on her mind, and she’s not missed just how much Ayato’s breathing has gotten more and more shallow, and her worried gaze lingers on him just as he subtly bites his lips, no doubt trying to downplay the amount of pain he’s in. **  
**

But a compromise is a compromise, and Touka expected for this to end much worse, so she’s really fucking relieved that all of them got out of that hellhole in one piece. Yomo had almost not made it, she remembers with a shudder. She doesn’t know what she’d do if she lost another member of her family.

Bidding goodbye to Kaneki had been hard enough, even knowing that this time it would be different, that he would not risk his life pointlessly. Not even him was that cruel. Still, Touka is a worrier, and worry she does, because she doesn’t know any better.

The horn of a car interrupts the flow of her thoughts, and as she helps everyone onto the vehicle, she finally lets herself breathe.

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

It doesn’t come as much of a surprise when Ayato refuses to get help with bandaging his chest up, but Touka still pinches the bridge of her nose in exasperation.

“I can tell that your shoulder is hurting you. Besides, you’re not fooling anyone with your tough guy act, you know? Not especially Hinami,” she drily comments, and Ayato gives her a glare for her effort. “We’re just worried about you. Let us help.”

If that last sentence sounds a bit pleading, neither of them mentions it. They’re not meeting each other’s eyes, and Touka knows that Ayato has realized she’s not just talking about his injuries anymore. There’s a bitter taste in her mouth, the longer the silence between them stretches on, awkward, and she hates that she can’t read the expression on his face, hates that she can’t tell what he’s thinking, what’s holding him back. But more than everything else, she hates that she doesn’t know her own bother anymore, when there used to be a time when they never breathed out of sync.

As if she needed another reminder that he’s grown a lot while she wasn’t looking.

“Fine,” he finally relents, and Touka doesn’t make the mistake of commenting on the obvious concession. She knows he just did it to placate her for the time being, but she’s gone long enough pretending not to have a brother at all, so she’d take every little chance he throws at her to mend the sting of not being good enough to keep him close.

Ayato wordlessly hands her the gauze after she moves closer, and obediently sits still during the whole process of being patched up.

Touka stops to judge her handiwork after she’s finished, and if her hand moves to ruffle his hair before she can catch herself, it’s purely on autopilot. It still makes both of them freeze at the familiarity of the gesture, and she can see that Ayato is about to say something but she immediately realizes she doesn’t want to hear it at all, so she hurriedly leaves the tense silence that’s suddenly blanketing the room, muttering an excuse about making coffee to help him regain a bit of energy.

Ayato’s mouth falls shut with a click, and never before in her life has Touka felt such a coward for the relief that floods through her at her hasty retreat.

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

Ayato looks at the closed door for minutes on end, flabbergasted.

_What the hell was that for_ , is what he wanted to ask, but Touka had rushed out with the grace of a hurricane, and he’d been left there alone to ponder it to himself.

He doesn’t like the conclusion he comes to after very little thinking, because really, it’s pretty obvious to Ayato what that was about. But most of all, he doesn’t like the wave of nostalgia that the unexpected gesture has forced on him, making him think back at days long gone, and at a sort of innocence both of them no longer possessed.

There was a reason if Ayato had left home after all, and it didn’t matter if that reason was what had made him come back too, the truth was that Ayato was better off believing Touka hated him. It made it easier to placate the guilt that clawed at his stomach each time he saw that melancholy in her eyes, or the remorse and the hurt at being discarded barely hidden behind a layer of necessary brashness. It made it easier to live with the belief that everything he did, he did to protect her, rather than to escape from his own fears. That was how he can lie to himself and to Aogiri and pretend he doesn’t have an heart anymore, that he doesn’t have a home to return to. But it’s no use, because that expression that Touka always wears in his presence is the same he always sees staring back at himself in the mirror.

He thought it was a necessity, but now that he’s looking her in the eyes again only to find the same year-old hurt, as though his very presence in her life is reopening a wound he knows he _has_ placed there, now that he’s finally realizing how Touka never closed that door in spite of it…

He is faltering.

What was the purpose of leaving her to become stronger, if his new strength hadn’t been enough to keep her safe?

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

Touka’s hands as she brews that damn cup of coffee _aren’t_ shaking.

She is all too aware of Hinami’s eyes on her all along, though, and the force of the scrutiny she’s being pinned under is making her lose her composure. Not that she is making a good show of it in the first place.

“What is it?” she bluntly asks, because there’s no point in beating around the bush. She still feels guilty when Hinami jumps on her seat though, not expecting the harshness of her tone. Touka hadn’t meant for it to be there. She’s just got a lot on her mind, and– “… Sorry,” she apologizes, setting the hot water down before she makes a mess of her working counter. Her fingers are still trembling, and so she puts them in her pockets, sighing. She doesn’t know what’s gotten into her all of a sudden. Where did her hard-won patience go? She doesn’t recognize herself anymore.

“How… How is he?” Hinami finally asks, her gaze downwards and clouded with an out-of-place guilt.

Touka sighs again, and this time it comes out like a drawn out, defeated sound. She doesn’t know if it’s directed at her brother’s infuriating stubbornness or at Hinami’s self-satisfied martyr complex. She should’ve seen this coming. She’d always been particularly receptive of Kaneki’s influence, in both the good and the bad ways.

“He will be fine,” it’s what Touka decides to answer with, then her gaze softens, and she gives her a serious look. “You should rest. He wouldn’t want for you to visit this soon anyway.” _Not before you too get a bit of sleep_ , is what goes unsaid.

That makes the beginning of a worn out smile stretch on Hinami’s lips, but she’s still not meeting Touka’s eyes, and that worries her.

“It’s my fault, Big sis,” she weakly says, sounding defeated. “He got injured because of _me_.”

Her voice doesn’t wobble, not like it would’ve in the past, but it still makes Touka’s heart squeeze with an incredible amount of pain.

_Ayato isn’t the only one who’s changed a lot when I wasn’t looking._

It’s a testament to how little tact Touka still manages to show despite her maturity, that she blurts out an unapologetic: “He got hurt because a dove put a quinque bullet in his chest.” Hinami flinches, but Touka goes on, intent on driving that point home. “You’re only responsible for getting yourself caught. What the doves did and what we chose to risk for your sake is not something you should worry about. We wouldn’t let you anyway.” _We care too much about you to simply abandon you to your fate._

There aren’t any tears in Hinami’s eyes when she finally raises her face to look at Touka, taken aback. Touka tries for a reassuring smile, and it must be genuine enough, because part of the tension begins to dissipate from Hinami’s slouched shoulders.

“Try not to do that again to me, though,” Touka half-jokes, getting closer to pinch Hinami’s cheeks playfully. “It gets lonely in here without you keeping me company from time to time.”

_I miss what we had_ , is what she means.

Hinami seems to understand this because she buries her face in Touka’s shoulder, squeezing her tight instead of voicing her agreement.

They remain like that for a while, taking comfort in each other’s heartbeat, before Hinami speaks again in a whisper, as if afraid of how her words would be received. “He has missed you, too.”

Touka freezes, and makes to look at Hinami’s face, but feels disappointed when it doesn’t emerge from the crook of her shoulder where it’s still comfortably snuggled into. She feels as though it’s a deliberate choice. Hinami doesn’t say anything else after that, only keeps holding her, and neither does Touka.

She should have expected that she’d gotten better at reading through her.

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

After that, she decides that she’s run away long enough.

Ayato warily looks at her as she slips back into his room and softly closes the door behind her back as to not disturb Hinami’s sleep, a tray with a cup of coffee in her left hand.

She tries not to feel too self-conscious. It’s only her brother. Blood of her veins. Why does she feel like her chest is going to tear in halves just by looking at him, at how broad his back has become, how severe the line of his jaw, how pronounced his ever present frown is?

“Hey,” she says, setting the cup down on his nightstand. “I expected for you to have bolted out of the window by now.” She phrases it as a joke, but she can’t deny the pang of loneliness that simple jab brings back to her mind.

Ayato glares at her for a moment, his scowl deepening for a moment before he sighs and rubs at his eyes. “Jeez, what’s gotten into you all of a sudden…” he mutters, before returning to glare at her in annoyance. “You don’t have to try so hard. I’m not gonna bite.”

Touka returns his glare. “Cheeky brat,” she sneers, “I see that hasn’t changed. Are you going to drink that or not?”

Ayato looks at the coffee. “Will you leave me alone if I do?” he pretends to protest, but takes the cup in his hand all the same.

Touka would be lying to herself if she said that she doesn’t hold a breath. It’s stupid, because _it’s just coffee_ , but her chest aches and she resists the urge to swallow at what feels like the moment upon which stands her absolution, or maybe even her own damnation.

Ayato takes a sip, and his face changes from his usual frown to something Touka can’t quite place. He takes another, and Touka breathes.

She avoids his gaze after he finishes the cup without a protest, feeling her eyes flooding with unshed tears and an inexplicable relief. The _click_ of the porcelain cup on its small plate makes her come back to her senses, and she notices that Ayato’s eyes are now intently trained on her. Have probably been for a second too long. She doesn’t know what he’s seeing, and that thought unsettles her, so she decides to punch his unbandaged shoulder to diffuse the sudden tension that has descended again on the small room. “See? That wasn’t too difficult,” she teases with a forced smile, and then makes to leave because she bitterly realizes she no longer has an excuse to stay there.

She is stopped by a hand falling on her shoulder and tugging her back.

“What is it?” he bluntly asks as he turns around in surprise, and it’s just that simple question, so brash and impulsive in ways that can only be described as a family trait, it’s the irony of hearing it repeated in such a short span of time that makes the dam break.

She bursts out laughing, and she can’t stop. Ayato hasn’t let go of her and he’s still looking at her as though she’s grown a second head, and for some reason that makes Touka laugh even harder, until she’s struggling to regain her breath. She supposes that it was just a matter of time until all the tension she was holding back on would find an outlet after all.

When she finally calms down, wiping at her eye, Ayato is no longer looking at her but instead frowning at his bedsheets, and the warmth on Touka’s shoulder has disappeared. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I wasn’t laughing at you. It’s just…” she trails off, and Ayato glances at her in distrust and maybe something else. It’s too much. This whole situation is too fucking much, and Touka has no idea where to start sorting it out.

“What the hell?” Ayato bursts before she can get a chance to, raising a heated glare at her, and Touka sees something burning in his irises, something close to hurt, or to anger, she cannot quite decide. “You’re not making any sense! What do you even want from me?” He pauses, fisting his sheet and gritting his teeth. “I thought you’d be happy playing family again as long as this lasted, but then you come here and laugh at my face and ruffle my hair and then avoid me— what the hell, Touka, how am I even supposed to interpret _that_?”

He’s wheezing as he finishes his tirade, his eyes burning something fierce.

Touka meets his gaze with an unreadable expression on her face, staring at him for a long moment without uttering a word. She only feels bitter, when she finally replies: “Since when has any of this been my choice?”

Ayato reacts as though he’s been slapped, and angrily bites a “You haven’t answered my question.”

“I think I have,” it’s all Touka says before slamming the door behind her back, no longer caring about who else was trying to sleep. They probably already woke everyone up with all of their shouting.

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

The fight leaves Ayato not long after the door slams shut, and he suddenly feels very drained, so he plops back down on his bed with a wince, his good arm coming to cover the shame and the hurt on his face.

What the hell, why did he make such a scene?

He’d only wanted to _talk_.

His shoulders don’t tremble as he keeps failing to fall asleep, but this time his eyes are burning with a different kind of sting.

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

The second day after their arrival at :Re, Ayato leaves.

It doesn’t come as much of a surprise to Touka, but it still hurts plenty. She thought that this time it would be different. Why did she think that, again?

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

Sitting on the edge of a skyscraper, Ayato tries to put a name to the feeling that’s twisting his chest in a painful grip. Under him, the city is vibrating with the hustle and bustle of a thousand different lives, of even more stories and maybe even countless heartaches, but he doesn’t find any comfort in it. He looks on and on, not really seeing anything past the maze of his confused thoughts and jumbled feelings.

Had he meant all those things he let slip out through his anger?

What does _he_ expect from Touka?

If he’s honest with himself, he doesn’t know. He can’t even tell what is it that he wants, so it’s unfair at best to push all the blame for the frustration and even for the longing for a different life on her shoulders, when she’s done nothing but welcome him back with open arms.

The point is, is he even _ready_ to come back? To play like a happy family, and live in happy denial that the world they live in is a hellhole of a fucked up joke?

He’s not so sure anymore. That Touka is too soft for her own good is something that can’t be denied, and he hates to be the one who needs to remind that to her everyday. Yesterday’s fight had only made it clear how bad of an idea this is.

But the sting in his chest tells him otherwise, and Ayato _falters_.

He hates this indecisiveness, the weakness that tugs at his heart and makes it harder to do the right thing and be the mature one, the one in charge of watching his sister’s back even when she’s not looking.

He hates that she refuses any other help.

But most of all, he hates that he’s so bad at explaining his feelings to her, because he cannot fully understand them himself.

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

It’s a few weeks later that Hinami comes to find him. Immediately, he realizes what the lines on her face mean. Of course Hina knew where to look for. She knows everything about him, including how shame and heartache look on his always frowning face. She’s just been wishing that he came back all this while, given him a chance to do so out of his own free will.

If Hinami is here, it means that not even her believes in him anymore. He doesn’t know how that thought makes him feel.

“Ayato,” she says by way of greeting. He nods in her direction and then resumes silently looking down on the the nightlife of Tokyo’s outskirts.

Hinami sits beside him, her hands folded on her lap. “Big brother asked of you,” she says.

That catches Ayato off-guard. _What could he possibly want from me now?_ “What for?”

“He’s hosting a meet up at the café to discuss the workings of how to retake Tokyo,” she replies, and Ayato huffs.

“Of course he is,” he mutters under his breath. _That delusional dipshit._

“What are you going to do?”

Honestly? Ayato doesn’t know. With Aogiri gone and the Doves being led by such a wild card of an opponent, Ayato is questioning his remaining pride and balancing it on a scale from realism to necessity.

What other choice does he have, realistically speaking?

“I’ll go,” he surrenders, “I’ll listen to what he has to say.”

Because what else can he do, in a world where people of his kind cannot even have a right to happiness and stability, let alone a choice of their own?

Hinami’s shoulders sag in relief, and Ayato turns to look at her, questioningly. “You’ll need to talk to Big Sis,” she reminds him, as though he hasn’t already realized.

“I know,” he mutters, and feels guilt crawl back in his chest at the small smile she gives at that.

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

“Touka,” Yomo calls from behind the counter while she’s busy restocking the boxes of coffee beans in the backroom of :Re, “Someone’s asking for you.”

“‘Coming,” she distractedly calls back, setting down her clipboard after crossing out a line. Really, this is the most tedious task at the shop, but sometimes it’s better to crawl back here instead of doing the proper costumers service. Some patrons can be really irritating. Especially when they use her manager position as a way to push their advances on her.

It’s with that that thought in mind that she finally emerges from the backroom, and it’s only after she rounds the corner that she sees who’s waiting for her.

“Ayato,” she neutrally says, and turns to look at Yomo for answers. The stoic man doesn’t have any, but he does give a small nudge with his head in the direction of Ayato’s slouched down form, where he’s still not acknowledging her, his gaze instead trained on his untouched coffee cup, a thoughtful expression on his face.

Touka sighs, taking off her apron. “Let’s go to the back,” she says, and Ayato wordlessly follows.

Once they’re on a more private location, Touka crosses her arms in front of her chest, her posture becoming defensive despite the harshness of her tone. “What are you doing here, Ayato?”

He drops down on a chair and says: “ _Talking_.”

He says it as though it's Touka who didn’t want to listen the last time. She refrains from pointing that out, and instead searches his face for something, anything, that will give her a clue to what he’s thinking. As always, she finds nothing. “Listen,” she begins, “If you’re here to throw another tantrum–”

“I’m not. I’m here to just talk, stupid Aneki,” Ayato doesn’t let her finish. “Now can you just sit and let me do that?”

“Fine,” Touka relents, sitting down too. She guesses that stubbornness is another family trait. “But if you’re gonna be a brat again, I’m going to throw you out. There’s customers right behind that wall.”

“Jeez, I’m not stupid,” he mutters, rubbing at his face. “Whatever. I came here to apologize.”

_What_.

“What?”

Ayato groans, rolling his eyes. “Can you stop being this difficult? You heard me the first time,” he says.

Touka doesn’t say anything for a long moment, too stunned by the unexpected apology. It’s so unlike the Ayato she thought she knew, that she wonders how far gone they are, if she feels like she’s staring at a stranger, instead of her own brother.

“You’ve got a nice set up here,” Ayato changes the topic when she fails to find words for too long. His gaze can’t seem to find a place to rest, instead flicking from left to right, taking everything and nothing in.

Did he expect for her to just accept the apology and be done with it?

“I see you’re still adamant about playing human,” he says, rubbing his neck, the picture of uncomfortable, and Touka bristles at the sudden jab.

_So much for apologizing. Is he still on about that?_

“You’re making an awful job at meaning your apology, little brother,” she grits through her teeth. “Sorry for not meeting your standards,” she adds, her voice dripping with sarcasm and her shoulders tense again.

Ayato groans and throws his head back, looking at the ceiling. “'Sorry,” he mutters, this time sounding genuine enough. “You know this life is not for me. Playing human or whatever. But if that’s what you want then fine, I’m not going to get in the way.”

“I don’t need your permission.”

“I _know_.”

“Then what do _you_ want from me?” Touka explodes, no longer understanding where this discussion is even supposed to go.

Ayato’s scowl deepens but no reply comes, and Touka has to look away. Why are they still fighting over this? Why can’t he just say what’s on his mind?

Why can’t she just _let go_?

Everyone leaves her in the end. So why does she keep hurting herself, wishing for someone to come back again instead of moving on, just like they’d both wasted entire days staring at that unmoving door, wishing for their dad to come back home?

Then it dawns on her, the reason why Ayato is so afraid.

_I thought you’d be happy playing family again as long as this lasted_ , he said.

“You’re still thinking about _him_ ,” she states, and Ayato stays silent. “You _are_ ,” she realizes and she distantly wonders why it comes as such a shock to her. She still thinks of him, too, albeit differently. Her judgement is not clouded by years of helplessness and betrayal masked as anger and grief. She’s come to terms with the fact that it wasn’t their father placid attitude nor his wish for a pacific coexistence with humans that got him killed, but human’s fear towards what they don’t understand.

Ayato hasn’t.

“You idiot,” Touka weakly says, staring at him in incredulity, and then again once more, “You absolute shithead…” She punches his shoulder. “All these years…” her voice wobbles, and she punches him again, harder this time. “All these years you’ve been denying yourself some closure and yet…”

She’s holding back frustrated tears by the time her third weak punch misses her target completely and she loses her balance. Ayato catches her before she can fall to the ground.

His face is twisted with a too long hurt, when she finally looks in his eyes through her watery ones, and she’s angry when she all but snarls: “Why didn’t you _let me help_?”

“What could you have done,” he says, bitterly. “He was dead. That wasn’t going to change no matter what we chose to do with our lives. But you weren’t.”

Touka doesn’t understand the connection. “Then why did you leave?” she asks in exasperation, and up this close, she can tell that Ayato is debating whether or not to answer that particular question. She wonders how bad of a reason it’s gonna be, if he’s being so shifty about it. She kind of doesn’t want to know, but at the same time she’s aching to understand with a fervour that’s making her burn from the inside. “Why did you join Aogiri?”

_Can there even be a good reason for leaving me?_ , she wonders.

Ayato drops his arms at his sides. “It was the only way I knew to become stronger than him,” he finally replies, and Touka crumbles.

She crumbles, and crumbles and crumbles.

_What are you saying_ , she thinks.

_You left my side because you wanted to_ protect _me?_

_How does that even make sense?_

But it does. Hasn’t she said the same to Nishio, once? ‘If you want to blame something, blame your own weakness.’

This time, when her knuckle meets with Ayato’s jaw, she feels something break. She relishes in the pain that explodes on her hand where it made contact with her brother’s skin, because it subsides the hurt in her chest and the sting in her eyes.

_You stupid, stupid little brother. Deciding what's best for me by yourself._

_Are you finally going to give me a choice in the matter?_

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

It’s Yomo who sits besides her on a stool, after they close the shop for the night.

He doesn’t say anything, just wordlessly puts a hand on the juncture between her shoulders, and leaves it there long enough to be comforting, but not as much to be pitying.

She appreciates it all the more for it.

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

Ayato comes back a few more times after that. They still have plenty of things to be honest about, and now that the biggest one is out in the open, it’s easier for them to try to relearn how to walk around each other.

To be fair, it’s far from ideal. Both of them are far too stubborn for their own good, and it’s not easy to pretend like those years apart never existed, because ignorance of a problem has never before done any of them any favours, and they don’t want to repeat that.

Still, they try. They don’t yet know where they stand with each other, and they still bicker and fight from time to time, enough so that even Hinami chooses to take her leave and stay with Banjou, to try and give them a bit more room to maneuver around each other. It doesn’t quite work.

Neither of them knows if they’ll ever relearn how to breathe in sync like they used to as kids. Neither of them knows how long their truce will last, or what the future has in store for them, and not even Kaneki’s promises for a better world can placate the worry in Touka’s heart, or the skepticism in Ayato’s.

But both of them expected for this to end so much worse, and really, what else can they do, in a world where people of their kind cannot even have a right to a choice, let alone a chance at happiness?

So fighting they do, because if both of them are time bombs, this is the only shot they have at some semblance of stability.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my tumblr [here](http://bloodycarnations.tumblr.com/post/155898924239/prompt-1-hideeto-ship-not-written-as-a-crack) in honour of my two-years anniversary in this fandom.  
> 


End file.
